


Scars

by Misericordemika



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Drabble, M/M, jaydick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5695216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misericordemika/pseuds/Misericordemika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble: Scars tell stories when it comes to their line of work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

Scars tell stories when it comes to their line of work; darkened circles from bullets fired by drug gangs, gashes seared by the swords of assassins and roughly patched, hidden wounds invisible but for the awful pain whenever the weather gets too wet or too cold.

Dick has explored every ridge of muscle on Jason’s body, each ripple that tenses or relaxes as the younger man moves in his fitful sleep. He can pinpoint the exact moment when Jason finally relaxes, as the rising and falling of his shoulder blades becomes more profound.

He is not unfamiliar with the view of Jason’s back, but it was not always as it is now, safe and comfortable within the confines of a bed. In the past, frequently it had been turned away from him as Jason shuts himself away, refusing all implorations to come home. Or other times, it was quickly retreating into the darkness when its owner fled as if to further lengthen the distance between them. More recently, it had been something he wrapped an arm around, offering a small comfort for some response in return - a crack within the shield of fury Jason had erected to protect himself.

Jason’s back has become as familiar to Dick as his own body, with each detail etched into his mind, each scar a notation of their journey together.

There are those faint ridges that form rivulets down his arms, souvenirs from their times as Robin - a lifetime ago: a small mark just at the cervical vertebrae, so aged that it was almost invisible. Dick can only presume that it was from Jason’s childhood, as the subject is immediately changed when it has been mentioned.

Down the centre of the back was a network of scars, frightening in their uniformly - as if the perpetrator dealt them out in a fascinated and systemic manner. About half slants from just beneath the shoulder down to his right hip, each one roughened and raised as skin thickened over like armour. The rest are crescent moons descending from the right to the left, every one an ugly reminder of where flesh were dug from bone, tendons ripped from ligaments.

He reaches out, fingers tracing circles across Jason’s shoulder blades. Like a map, each curve and contour reveals something more.

In spite of their careful avoidance of his difficult past to arrive at their current equilibrium, Jason’s scars have recorded his entire life history onto his body; a tragic and cruel one, but beautiful nevertheless.

Dick presses his lips against the one on his neck.

Jason jerks at the touch. He shifts his head just enough to see Dick slowly traces his lips over his shoulder and onto his chest.

“Dickster, _what_ are you doing?” 

His voice is deeper than usual, groggy with a hint of rasp and a slight hitch as Dick slides on top of him, another kiss to a scar near his ear. Even when asleep, even when aroused - _even when he is with him_ , Jason’s guard is never down. It has saved his life many times before, and it will remain a habit that persists throughout the rest of his life.

“Nothing,” Dick pauses to lick his lips, gazing appreciatively down where they touched, chest to chest, where his own scars ended and Jason’s began. “Was just thinking that your scars look beautiful, Little Wing.”

Jason’s accusing, suspicious frown wavered into a flustering crimson.

**Author's Note:**

> For [irljasontodd](https://twitter.com/irljasontodd)


End file.
